Robin Cook - Acceptable Risk

“I certainly wasn’t part of the in-group either,” Edward said.

Kim started the car and turned it around. They headed for the castle.

“Why didn’t you become an interior decorator?” Edward asked.

“My parents talked me out of it,” Kim said. “Particularly my father.”

“I’m confused,” Edward said. “Friday at dinner you said you and your father were never close.”

“We weren’t close, but he still had a big effect on me,” Kim said. “I thought it was my fault we weren’t close. So I spent a lot of effort trying to please him, even to the point of going into nursing. He wanted me to go into nursing or teaching because he felt they were ‘appropriate.’ He certainly didn’t think interior design was appropriate.”

“Fathers can have a big effect on kids,” Edward said. “I had a similar compulsion to please my father. When I think about it, it was kind of crazy. I should have just ignored him. The problem was that he made fun of me because of my stutter and lack of ability in competitive sports. I suppose I was a disappointment to him.”

They arrived at the castle, and Kim pulled up next to Edward’s car. Edward started to get out, but then he sat back in the seat.

“Have you eaten?” he asked.

Kim shook her head.

“Me neither,” he said. “Why don’t we drive into Salem and see if we can find a decent restaurant?”

“You’re on,” Kim said.

They drove out of the compound and headed toward town. Kim was the first to speak. “I attribute my lack of social confidence in college directly to my relationship with my parents,” she said. “Could it have been the same for you?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Edward said.

“It’s amazing how important self-esteem is,” Kim said, “and it’s a little scary how easily it can be undermined with children.”

“Even with adults,” Edward said. “And once it is undermined it affects behavior, which in turn affects self-esteem. The problem is that it can become functionally autonomous and biochemically determined. That’s the argument for drugs: to break the vicious cycle.”

“Are we talking about Prozac again?” Kim asked.

“Indirectly,” Edward said. “Prozac can positively affect self-esteem in some patients.”

“Would you have taken Prozac in college if it had been available?” Kim asked.

“I might have,” Edward admitted. “It would have made a difference in my experience.”

Kim glanced briefly across at Edward. She had the feeling he’d just told her something personal. “You don’t have to answer this,” she said, “and maybe I shouldn’t ask, but have you ever tried Prozac yourself?”

“I don’t mind answering,” Edward said. “I did use it for a time a couple of years ago. My father died, and I became moderately depressed. It was a reaction I didn’t expect considering our history. A colleague suggested I try Prozac, and I did.”

“Did it help the depression?” Kim asked.

“Most definitely,” Edward said. “Not immediately but eventually. But most interestingly it also gave me an unexpected dose of assertiveness. I’d not anticipated it, so it couldn’t have been a placebo effect. I also liked it.”

“Any side effects?” Kim asked.

“A few,” Edward said. “But nothing terrible and certainly acceptable in relation to the depression.”

“Interesting,” Kim said sincerely.

“I hope my admission of psychotropic drug use in the face of your pharmacological Puritanism doesn’t alarm you.”

“Don’t be silly,” Kim said. “Quite the contrary. I respect your forthrightness. Besides, who would I be to judge? I’ve never taken Prozac, but I did have some psychotherapy during college. I’d say that makes us even.”

Edward laughed. “Right!” he said. “We’re both crazy!”

They found a small, popular local restaurant that served fresh fish. It was crowded, and they were forced to sit on stools at the bar. They each had baked scrod and iced mugs of draft beer. For dessert there was old-fashioned Indian pudding with ice cream.

After the boisterous pub-like atmosphere they both enjoyed the silence of the car as they drove back to the compound. However, as they passed through the gate, Kim sensed that Edward had become demonstrably nervous. He fidgeted, brushing his hair off his forehead.

“Is something wrong?” Kim asked.

“No,” Edward said, but his stutter had returned.

Kim pulled up next to his car. She put on the emergency brake but left the engine running. She waited, knowing there was something on Edward’s mind.

Edward finally blurted out: “Would you like to come over to my apartment when we get back to the city?”

The invitation threw Kim into a quandary. She sensed the courage it took for Edward to invite her, and she didn’t want him to feel rejected. At the same time she thought of the needs of the patients she’d be facing in the morning. Ultimately her professionalism won out. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s a bit too late tonight. I’m exhausted; I’ve been up since six.” In an attempt to make light of the situation she added: “Besides, it’s a school night and I haven’t finished my homework.”

“We could turn in early,” Edward said. “It is just a little after nine.”

Kim was both surprised and uneasy. “I think maybe things are moving a little too swiftly for me,” she said. “I’ve felt very comfortable with you, but I don’t want to rush things.”

“Of course,” Edward said. “Obviously I’ve also felt comfortable with you.”

“I do enjoy your company,” Kim said. “And I’m off Friday and Saturday this week if that works with your schedule.”

“How about dinner on Thursday night?” Edward said. “It won’t be a school night.”

Kim laughed. “It’ll be a pleasure,” she said. “And I’ll make it a point to have all my homework done.”

Friday, July 22, 1994

Kim’s eyes blinked open. At first, she was disoriented. She didn’t know where she was. There were unfamiliar shutters over the windows dispersing the early morning light. Turning her head to the side, she saw Edward’s sleeping form, and it all came back to her in a flash.

Kim drew the sheet up around her neck. She felt distinctly uneasy and out of place. “You hypocrite,” she silently voiced to herself. She could remember just a few days previously telling Edward she didn’t want to rush things, and here she was waking up in his bed. Kim had never been in a relationship which had proceeded to such intimacy so quickly.

As quietly as possible, Kim tried to slip out of the bed with the intention of dressing before Edward woke up. But it was not to be. Edward’s small, white, and rather nasty Jack Russell terrier growled and bared his teeth. His name was Buffer. He was at the foot of the bed.

Edward sat up and shooed the dog away. With a groan he fell back against the pillow.

“What time is it?” he asked. He’d closed his eyes.

“It’s a little after six,” Kim said.

“Why are you awake so early?” Edward asked.

“I’m used to it,” Kim said. “This is my normal wakeup time.”

“But it was almost one when we came to bed.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kim said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stayed.”

Edward opened his eyes and looked at Kim. “Do you feel uncomfortable?” he asked.

Kim nodded.

“I’m sorry,” Edward said. “I shouldn’t have talked you into it.”

“It’s not your fault,” Kim said.

“But it was your inclination to go,” Edward said. “It was my fault.”

They looked at each other for a beat, then both smiled.

“This is sounding a bit repetitious,” Kim said with a chuckle. “We’re back to competing with each other with apologies.”